Chance Contamination
by Elling
Summary: --- "Oi! What's wrong with clean hands" --- The Doctor's hands were not as clean as he thought. Worlds away, Jack gets a bit of a shock. Post Doctor's Daughter, lol.
1. Tainted

**A/N:** I don't own Doctor Who at all. I'm just... a fan!  
p.s. -- this is largely my own wishful thinking. Soooo... yeah!

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Silence. Stillness. Well, mostly. Not really. The TARDIS still hummed, and the walls and floor grating protested as they settled into place after the rough ride. He briefly caught his breath before his racing mind levered his body to his feet and he sprinted for the TARDIS door.

Grabbing his long brown coat from where it was flung negligently over the railing, he swung it on. The slightest of jangles from his coat pockets made him pause before opening the door. The Doctor jammed his hands into his pockets and dug around. Like his beloved TARDIS, they were bigger on the inside. Questing hands settled the plethora of items stashed inside until his right hand came into contact with the noisy article. Turning it over in his hand briefly, he recognized it as a clockwork mouse. He shook it to confirm. Hah! Noisemaker identified.

Clockwork mouse? What was _that_ for? He shrugged, having forgotten its original purpose (surely he'd find something to do with it later), and the back of his hand brushed against something soft that was not part of his coat. His eyebrows pulled together for the briefest moment as the original possessor of the shirt in his pocket came to mind. The fabric was soothing against his hand as it enveloped it, and he could almost hear its owner in the back of his mind, telling him to go find out where they'd landed already. He nearly dropped the mouse, making it clank faintly again, so he shoved the bit of clockwork deep into the folds of wadded-up cloth to keep it quiet. Turning back to the task at hand, he poked his head out of the door experimentally before exiting the TARDIS to look around. Adventure! What could sully a good adventure, really?

_-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --  
_

_"Oi! What's wrong with clean hands!?"_

_-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --_

He had been too distracted by the possession of two hearts, a sharp mind, and an overt eagerness so akin to his own to notice. It was impossible not to be, and that vaguely sickening sense of hope towards the end of her short time with him had not been helping either. He wouldn't figure it out until a few weeks later, but in the moment the Doctor had been manhandled into providing a tissue sample that created his daughter, his Jenny (as he now had come to refer to her in his mind), his hands had not been as clean as he thought.

The sample had been tainted, something he had finally realized in one of those rare moments of quiet after some brilliant caper several worlds away. Though the scrape on his hand had healed quickly and cleanly, the ghost of the mark in his mind would call up the memory of her face. Blonde hair, bright eyes—but suddenly the face shifted slightly. His hearts gave a funny flutter and he had to brace himself against the console. Why hadn't he seen it sooner? Was it even possible that something so brief and insignificant meant that Jenny was not, as he thought, entirely his own?

He looked behind him to where his long brown coat with its deceptive pockets lay strewn over the jump-seat next to the console, then back to the control panel.

Donna plopped down in the jump-seat next to the Doctor's jacket lay and ran her fingers through her hair with a sigh, twisting it up. In the process of pulling her hair back from her face, she prodded his foot with hers, having noticed the slump of his shoulders.

"Alright, Doctor?"

He sprang back into movement and his hands quickly flew over the console, pressing this button or that, flipping a lever. "How does Face of Boe's 10,617th birthday party sound? I doubt we'll actually see him, the guest list is immense. But I love a good party, don't you?" He sounded distracted, or like he wanted to be distracted. She wasn't going to get anything from him now. Oh well. She would ask another time.

"Who's that?"

The engines revved to life and they were off, the Doctor determined to not give himself the time to mourn the two women he would never see again. Instead, he launched into a fast-paced description of the ever-enduring Face.


	2. Jack's Usual Game

_A nondescript pub, somewhere in London._

Idly leaning back in his chair, Jack took a sip from the tumbler in his hand before sliding it back onto the table. He was studying the face of the young woman who sat across from him and remarked almost absently, "You're very pretty, I must say. Remind me so much of an old friend of mine. Magnificent woman, haven't seen her in ages on account she's trapped in a parallel dimension." He paused, seeing the ghost of her face and spirit in this sprightly young girl. "Oh… I loved her but she wasn't for me." His eyes traveled away from her face momentarily then back to it before a slow smile tugged at his lips, "There are other fish in the sea, however…"

Inclining her head with a sly glint in her eyes she winked at him, "Best watch your step, Captain. M'dad is a time-traveler, too, and from what I hear, he's got a bit of a reputation for putting people back in their place…"

"Oh-ho-ho, a threat?" He grinned handsomely, his voice solid, "I promise you, this deal's legit."

"No, not a threat," she smiled innocently enough. "Merely something to remind you to behave when you buy me that second drink. Provided we actually get to the business of discussing your proposition, of course."

"Only one man in this universe could possibly get me to 'behave', gorgeous, and I doubt it's your dear old dad. He's probably a great man, no doubt, but the Doctor's one of a kind."

The way her face brightened confused him, and so did her words, and her eagerness. "You _have_ met dad! Are you a friend? How did you meet him?"

Captain Jack Harkness stared blankly for a protracted moment at the pretty young blonde girl in front of him as the resemblance to a second old friend of his bubble to the surface.

His face paled and his lungs forcibly expelled what air remained in them. He was relieved he'd set his glass down, for he certainly would have dropped it.

Jenny looked blithely concerned. "Captain?"

Flirtatious demeanor fading as his mind began racing in all kinds of directions, he bit the inside of his cheek and murmured, "Oh, I'm _so_ gonna get it now…"


	3. FlashJackback!

_A few hours earlier._

Captain Harkness led the young blonde once more around the small, sleek space cruiser he'd come across about two months prior to this pretty girl's arrival. It had been in excellent condition when he'd acquired it and only needed a minimal amount of servicing. Unfortunately, he didn't have any potential buyers until a battered old rocket made its final, fantastically managed crash-landing a few miles outside of Cardiff.

The ship's lone occupant, called Jenny, was unharmed and with the help of Jack and his team managed to salvage what useful parts remained while clearing the wreckage. She said she was searching for someone, a family member, and needed a replacement craft. Her looks vaguely reminded him of someone he once knew, he was sure of it. But instead of dwelling on it, the Captain had remarked laughingly about luck and a short time later found the two in some kind of underground hangar. It was filled with random alien artifacts, half-finished machinery and spare parts. Jenny had been dubious until she was set in front of the complete, top-condition cruiser.

She spent the next hour and a half going over the ship under Jack's watchful eye. The professional, knowledgeable, and almost militant way she handled the inspection both impressed and intrigued him. She knew her mechanics—extremely well. He liked that.

"Shall we discuss a price, then?" He questioned as the girl made yet another final circuit.

She nodded, keen eyes taking in every critical element on the exterior. "Yes, this'll do nicely. And it's good for multiple atmospheric breaks?"

"Tell ya what," he leaned languorously against the blunted nose of the machine, thumbs hooked on his braces. "I'll knock off ten percent if you let me take you for a drink, over which we will discuss the details? I know a great place in London; this baby could get us there in no time flat. And possibly exercise the cloaking tech for your further inspection."

Jenny unconsciously caught her tongue between her teeth in a faint crooked smile as she slowly drew her hand along the hatch-release. Looking up from the polished vehicle, she met his eyes with that unsettlingly familiar smile, "Deal."

Ignoring the niggling suspicion ghosting in the back of his mind, he grinned and jerked his head toward the craft, "Hop in."

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**A/N:** I really only intended for this to be two chapters, but I've made a filthy liar of myself and added this bit. I'm really not sure if anything will come after THIS last bit, but my muse might bite me again. Aaanyways. Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far--virtual cookies for you! ... And more virtual cookies for even more reviews, mah-ha ha ha!  
cough  
And from what I can tell, Jenny didn't take her time at all about appearing in the Doctor Who Fandom, did she? Lol, no worries. Love for the Jenny.

**P.S.** Doctor Who does not belong to me. I just like playing with the characters.


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